Mating Games 1: Opening Moves
by Kimberly T
Summary: Complete! Take a few single guy gargoyles, add some single girls, and set 'em down in the city called the Big Easy. Let the games begin! 23rd in the Life Goes On series.
1. Sleepless in New Orleans

_**LIFE GOES ON**_

**MATING GAMES, PART 1: **

**OPENING MOVES**

By Kimberly T. (email: kimbertow -at- yahoo dot com)

Standard disclaimers & acknowledgments apply; I'm not making a dime off this, so please don't sue.

Author's note: Here's where it gets _earthy_, folks! Rated a hard PG-13 to soft R for frank discussion of reproductive matters and a fair amount of sexual innuendo; don't read this if you haven't _at least_ had Sex Education in school yet.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**1.1: Sleepless in New Orleans**

In a mansion several miles outside the city of New Orleans, a detective newly arrived from New York lay down in a strange bed and tried to settle her thoughts. Having gotten up hours early for two days in a row, and having spent all night either trying to make sense of a battle involving the Quarrymen in New York, or trying to get the gargoyle clan down to New Orleans before they found out about that battle, Elisa Maza was frankly exhausted… but far too wired to sleep.

The leader of the clan down here was a gargoyle-human hybrid! That meant it was possible for humans and gargoyles to have children together, after all…

And she and Goliath hadn't been using any protection! Was she pregnant right now?

A second later, she scolded herself to stop hitting the panic button so hard; of course she wasn't pregnant at the moment. She was in the middle of her period! …But according to Goliath's acute sense of smell and embarrassingly intimate knowledge of her body's cycles, two days after her period was due to end, she'd be fertile. Probably by this Saturday, if not late Friday.

_Why_ hadn't she gone on 'the pill' after all? She'd been reluctant to try contraceptives again, since the one time years ago that she'd gone on the daily pill regimen, she'd had killer headaches as a result. But didn't they have other options now? She remembered hearing about quarterly shots, and some kind of packet implanted under the skin that lasted for years; why hadn't she asked her doctor about those during her last annual checkup? Because Elisa Maza, the tough New York cop who could trade razor-sharp insults with the worst of them if need be, was still such a prude at heart, that's why. And now she was going to pay for that prudishness; if Goliath wouldn't consent to using condoms, so much for their planned 'second honeymoon'…

Did they even _make_ condoms in Goliath's size?

And would he consent to wearing one? To any sort of contraception?

Probably not, Elisa had to admit. Not when gargoyles were so rare that their race was constantly teetering on the edge of extinction. As a result, their whole racial mindset was vehemently 'pro-life;' she'd seen ample evidence of that back when Maggie had found out she was pregnant. Goliath had almost begged Maggie for the chance to adopt the child, if she found herself unable or unwilling to raise it; any child with wings would be incredibly precious to them. Goliath would definitely grab at any chance to have more young, even little hybrids.

And he would be a wonderful father; Elisa knew that. However reluctant Goliath had been to acknowledge his biological connection to Angela, once he'd finally given in he'd started becoming more fatherly every night. Back when the Trio had been squabbling over Angela like dogs over a steak, Goliath had almost stepped in to tell the boys off, but Elisa had firmly told him to let Angela handle it herself; she was a grown female in her own right, and if she wanted her eventual mate to _respect_ her then she'd better start asserting herself early. Since then, Elisa had seen how patient and caring Goliath was with Bethany and Alexander, the children living in the castle. He'd surely be just as kind and caring and patient with any little girl or boy Elisa could give him.

But what kind of mother would Elisa herself be? Elisa knew she was definitely not the patient sort, not one to tolerate the sorts of mistakes that children made… and like she'd told Goliath months ago, she'd rather handle Tony Dracon on a bad day than a dirty diaper pail! And it would be _her_ career that would be flushed right down the toilet if she got pregnant right now; despite the NYPD officially disallowing discrimination against females, women still had a harder row to hoe, and the 'mommy track' usually led right to a crappy clerical job for the rest of one's employment. Not to mention how much her life would be turned upside down if the public at large found out she was carrying a _half-gargoyle_ baby…

But how could it be possible, for gargoyles and humans to be inter-fertile? For God's sake, the gargoyles were _egg-layers_; from what little Elisa remembered from her high school Biology class, it was about as likely as her cat Cagney having kittens with one of the pigeons in Central Park! It just wasn't supposed to happen, period!

Unless magic had been involved… Elisa hadn't really believed in magic until after she'd met the gargoyle clan, but since then she'd come to truly loathe the stuff. For every magic-user that was actually of the beneficial sort, there were a dozen or more prank-playing Fey or nasty mortal witches and warlocks like Demona and the Archmage, tossing spells around like baseballs, and all too often Elisa and the gargoyles had been caught in the crossfire. But if magic had been involved in creating the hybrid Adam, then Elisa was off the hook after all.

Unless… unless all it took was any exposure to magic, at all; like that article she'd read in the Times a while back about some childhood disease that had been studied for its victims' later predilection for coming down with certain allergies. In which case, she was still in trouble. Because she'd had enough spells cast on her over the years that, according to the Banshee, the odor of Fey magic clung to her like Limburger.

And Goliath was **_still_** under a spell; that spell of enslavement that Demona had cast on him soon after the clan had awakened. Elisa had found a way around the spell, by ordering him to behave for the rest of his life as though he wasn't under a spell at all, but she still had nightmares sometimes about someone reconstructing the grimorum pages she'd burned and enslaving him once more. Since the magic was still affecting and always would affect him…

Dammit, she needed to talk to someone, someone who knew what she needed to know! But she hadn't had time this morning to draw anyone away for discreet conversation; as soon as the truck had pulled in, the people living here had started hustling the gargoyles' statues out of the trucks and onto a couple of concrete slabs laid out behind the mansion. Adam would have been the logical choice to talk to, but he'd been as busy as the rest if not busier, dictating orders for the rest of the day's business while helping to unload the gargoyles' statues.

As soon as all the Manhattan clan had been mounted in a semicircle on the improvised perches, Adam had struck a pose in the center of the semicircle, given a few last directions to the other humans around, and turned to stone before Elisa could discreetly ask him anything. And right after that, she and Fox had been escorted up to this bedroom to get some sleep, while everyone else hustled to get the welcoming party ready by sunset. It was the day before Thanksgiving, but Adam had decreed that they would hold the big feast a night early, to celebrate the arrival of a new clan in their midst.

Elisa glanced over at Fox with a trace of resentment; the other woman had curled up on her chosen bed and gone to sleep within two minutes of their being brought here, and hadn't stirred since then. Why couldn't she have stayed awake too, worrying about her baby back in New York or something? A moment later Elisa castigated herself; that was such a rotten thing to think! Obviously, she was getting extremely cranky from lack of sleep. She shook her head, then rolled over and resolved to just stay horizontal and try very hard to not think about anything at all, until she fell asleep or until sundown, whichever came first.

To Be Continued…


	2. Death By Talking

**1.2: Death by Talking**

Fox awoke about two hours before sunset, stretching and yawning, and scolding herself that she'd gotten soft and spoiled in the last few years. Back in her mercenary days, she'd learned to sleep in virtually any conditions; whether soft bed or hard ground, daytime or nighttime, even in the rain… and wake up reasonably refreshed. And now here she was thinking that the bed she'd been given wasn't as comfortable as her luxury bed back in the castle, and she was just a little sore… definitely spoiled!

Fox glanced over at Elisa, slumbering in the room's other twin-size bed, and decided to let her sleep until sunset at least. From the way the bedclothes were knotted about her, sleep had not come easily. And so far as Fox knew, she didn't even know the mildly unpleasant news; that Adam was assuming Goliath was still single!

From what Adam had said in the truck that morning before dawn, and from what she remembered overhearing in conversations around the castle, gargoyles who were mated went through some subtle transformation that changed their bodies' scents in some way. Not that Fox could smell this 'mated marker' herself, but after Hudson had remarked that it was about time Goliath's official mated status matched his scent, and after Angela had agreed with him, Fox figured gargoyles could smell it pretty easily. Full-blooded gargoyles only, though; not Adam, who had admitted his sense of smell was lacking because he was half-human. (And how had that happened, anyway? Probably some magic involved; she'd have to ask later.)

That other girl-gargoyle should probably have noticed Goliath's scent, but from the way she'd been wrapping herself around Brooklyn, it was obvious that she'd probably been pretty much oblivious to anything else. But when some of those other unmated females started swarming around the boys from New York, they'd be sure to notice that marker, and might complain that their fearless leader had shorted them one of the unmated males they'd been promised. It would probably be for the best if someone whispered the truth in Adam's ear as soon as he woke up, before he did anything embarrassing.

Fox considered discreetly giving the information herself, then decided against it with a little wicked grin. She'd have Elisa do it instead, but be on hand just to watch the good detective blush again. For such a rough-n-tough cop, Elisa sure blushed at the drop of a hat—no, a loincloth. In the meantime, Fox felt like finding some food, for breakfast or dinner or whatever. Then finding a phone and calling the castle, to talk to David and listen to her son's sweet babbling. Hopefully he'd be up from his afternoon nap by now.

* * *

Elisa awoke some time later, less than an hour before sunset. Xanatos' better half was out of the room and her stomach was rumbling, so she got dressed and went in search of Fox and food, in no particular order. She found the kitchen just by following her nose, and ran into one of the people who lived here with the clan—no, were part of the clan; a grandmotherly lady who'd introduced herself that morning as Amelie DuBois. Rather than invite her into the huge kitchen, which was teeming with people running here and there with all sort of pots, pans and utensils, Amelie apologetically asked her to wait in the dining room, and shouted for someone named Suzette to bring them chicory coffee and beignets while she showed Elisa the way. 

Amelie was a nice lady, very kindly… but she virtually defined the term 'chatterbox'! First she talked about the menu for the feast they had planned that night, combining some of the traditional northern-USA Thanksgiving foods with Cajun-style and Creole-style fare; New England-style roast turkey, Cajun roast turkey, baked ham, medallions of Creole roast pork, Mississippi quail with blue crab stuffing, crawfish pie, Oysters Bienville, garlic mashed potatoes, autumn wild rice, jambalaya, Martha's best gumbo, sweet potato praline casserole, pumpkin pie, mincemeat pie and New Orleans Bread Pudding with rum sauce. (Listening to all that, Elisa was practically drooling by the time Suzette arrived with the coffee and beignets. So she bit into the pastries with a little more haste and a little less care than she should have, and ended up with a fine dusting of powdered sugar all over her shirt and pants.)

Then Amelie went on about how wonderful it was that a new clan had been found at last, and at just the right time; only a year before the next breeding season! It was so fortunate for both clans that the New Yorkers had an excess of single males, because the New Orleans clan had an excess of single females! Oh, the catfighting had been dreadful in the last few years, before the few men they'd had in the maturing generation had finally picked their mates; hopefully it wouldn't be so bad this time, although there still weren't quite enough males to go around; there would still be at least one unhappy female, thanks to their Robert—oh never mind that, at least some of their single females would surely find happiness with some of the boys from New York! Though Amelie certainly hoped that they would stay down in New Orleans, rather than return to such a cold an inhospitable place. The things they'd been hearing about those Quarrymen, so dreadful; even nastier than the Klansmen that the gargoyles had secretly battled over the decades. And Marcel had been telling them that morning about what he'd seen and heard while he'd been up there; was it true that it was nearly impossible to get a decent cup of chicory coffee in New York? But Marcel was always so picky about his coffee, having to have it just so; he got that from his father Armand. The stories Amelie could tell about that man…

Elisa finally begged off to go back up to her room and change into a different shirt and pants, since she still had powdered sugar clinging here and there after the beignets. On the way back to her room, she ran into Fox, sitting in a hall chair and talking into the telephone. Elisa eyed the way Fox was perched in the chair and heard the words Fox was babbling into the phone, doubtless talking to her son, and idly speculated how much she could blackmail the former mercenary for. She had no doubt that any of the Pack would **_love_** to hear about their tough and tactically-minded former leader being curled up around the phone, cooing into the receiver about what a good little boy she had, yes, lil' Alex was such a _good_ baby for having his nap without complaint, and for getting over his diaper rash…

Fox noticed her smirk and gave her an unmistakable glare of 'what are _you_ looking at?' Then she gave a smirk of her own, and covered the receiver long enough to say to Elisa, "Did you hear yet about all the single ladies this clan has?"

"A woman named Amelie just told me about them, in the midst of talking my ear off about everything else under the sun," Elisa admitted. "Fox, back when we were fighting, thank you for never just talking me to death."

Fox grinned in reply, then started cooing into the receiver again. But as Elisa walked past, she stopped long enough to say, "Oh, Elisa, thought you should know: the people down here consider Goliath still available. Figured I'd let you set them straight on that, and I already bet David twenty bucks that you'll be blushing when you do."

Elisa whipped around to stare at Fox in shock, but Fox just waved her away as she went back to talking to her baby. This clan still considered Goliath unmated?

Elisa went back to her room, her stomach roiling with tension. Goliath had assured her, he had _sworn_ that the second any other gargoyle caught his scent with its new 'mated' marker, they would know he was 'off the market' and, rather than even attempt to seduce him, instantly go looking for a mate somewhere else. But obviously, that wasn't the case for all gargoyles; not for this clan, at least. Adam and Rebecca had to have gotten a good whiff of Goliath's scent during the course of that long night… and if they considered Goliath still 'up for grabs', then so would everybody else.

It was because she was _human_, she just knew it. Because she was human, Goliath's scent-marker probably didn't smell like it should, and therefore his mated status was invalid in this clan's eyes, or rather their noses. Never mind that the two of them loved each other, had damn near died for each other a dozen times already and had sworn to stay together always, 'till death do them part; she was human, so in their eyes none of it counted.

But it wasn't _right_! The people down here even had a half-human gargoyle for their leader; they had absolutely no business being prejudiced against human-gargoyle relationships!

But as her mother had once dryly pointed out to her, when explaining why some of the Taylors on her mother's side of the family didn't socialize with the Maza kids, prejudice didn't have to make sense.

Hell, for all she knew, maybe the clan down here considered Adam the gargoyle equivalent of a bastard… the product of an illegitimate relationship. The fact that he'd risen to become their leader meant that they were willing to overlook a flaw that a person had no control over, such as who his parents were… but being willing to overlook 'past mistakes' was one thing; being willing to accept present 'mistakes-in-progress' was another matter entirely.

She was **_not_** going to give Goliath up, not on their say-so. She and her Big Guy had sworn their lives to each other, and she intended to keep up her end of the bargain, and if she knew _anything_ about Goliath, it was that he fully intended to live up to his. But if these people insisted that he breed gargoyle hatchlings with one of their available females, since the whole race was in desperate need of young… and if Goliath wanted to placate this other clan, since they could really use an alliance and even a refuge while things were so bad for them in New York… she might end up having to _share_ him. Having to watch some other female go on a mating flight with him, to breed full-blooded gargoyle hatchlings. Having to watch Goliath enjoy the pleasures of another female…

Although that might let Elisa herself off the hook for producing hybrid babies…

**GODDAMMIT!** She really, _really_, **_really_** wanted to hit something! Where was a crook when you needed one?

She stomped up the stairs to the guest room, changed into a new shirt and jeans, and hurried downstairs and out to the back yard. It was almost sunset, and she need to talk to Goliath in private as soon as he woke up. They had to discuss their options…

To Be Continued…


	3. Clearing the Air

**1.3: Clearing the Air**

However, getting some private time with her husband turned out to be a problem. Elisa was determined to keep her emotions under control, to not let the people down here see how upset she was, until after she'd talked things over with Goliath. But it soon became obvious that it would take nothing less than a screaming fit to get through to everyone else down here, who had started bustling about the awakened gargoyles as soon as they'd woken up. Those who weren't swarming around the newcomers to introduce themselves to Goliath and the others in the Manhattan Clan, were swarming around Adam to explain to him that they needed more time to prepare the feast and for everyone who lived 'in town' to get there, and in all the chaos Elisa couldn't get within ten feet of Goliath, let alone pull him aside for some privacy.

Adam himself finally bellowed for order and temporary silence, and once everyone else had gone quiet for a moment, he told those who were needed in the kitchen to get the feast ready, to go and do that. Everyone else would assemble in the ballroom, humans in order by age and gargoyles by rookery generation, and he would bring the Manhattan clan inside in a moment for more formal introductions.

Humans and gargoyles alike departed in one direction, heading towards the house, and Elisa seized the moment to grab Goliath by the arm and haul him in the other direction. She noticed Adam giving her a puzzled glance as she pulled Goliath away, but he was too busy talking to Rebecca—something about her wanting to stay with the Manhattan clan instead of going in to assemble with the others, since she'd already introduced herself—to ask Elisa what was up.

Goliath clearly noticed her unhappiness, and asked her what the problem was, but she refused to answer until they'd gotten a full ten yards away from the others. Then she said softly but with growing intensity, "Goliath, I want you to know that no matter what they say, I am **_not_** giving you up, okay? I said 'till death do us part' and I meant it!"

Goliath looked first puzzled, then outraged. He kept his voice down, but hissed in a tone of growing anger, "Who has _dared_ to ask that we part from each other?"

"Well, no one has outright said it _yet_, but when the people down here don't consider us to be mates, sooner or later someone will!"

"_What?_"

But after several moments of back-and-forth confusion, Goliath finally figured it out. "Elisa, it's not that they refuse to acknowledge our mating; it's that they don't know about it! I had held off from telling the New Orleans clan members about our being mates until you arrived; it might have been inconsiderate of me, but I wanted it to be a surprise, for them _and_ for you. Did you find out yet that Adam is _half human_? …But after you arrived, Fox interrupted us before I could formally introduce you to anyone, and then insisted we play those games all the way here. And Adam couldn't simply scent my mated marker, because his sense of smell is so poor! He told us so himself just before dawn, when he had to ask us if Angela had chosen a mate yet."

"Oh…" Elisa felt pretty foolish for a few moments. "But what about Rebecca; why didn't she notice your scent?"

Goliath glanced back over his shoulder at the golden female in question, who was once again staying within arm's length of Brooklyn, and murmured amusedly, "I'm honestly not sure she's noticed my _color_, let alone my scent."

Elisa half-chuckled. "Yeah, she's pretty wrapped up in Brooklyn, isn't she? …But Goliath, we need to let them know about us, before Adam starts introducing you as 'up for grabs' along with the others. And honestly, I'm still not sure about whether or not they'll tolerate us…"

She explained the rest of her fears of rejection to Goliath, and he slowly nodded. "It's true, Adam seemed quite reluctant to talk about his half-human heritage. What little he told us was clearly just his response to the most frequently asked questions. But I do still believe that we will be accepted here, my beloved. And I will tell them about us… but I ask you to trust me now, to let me tell it in my own way, and at the right time. Will you trust me?"

Elisa saw the slight twinkle lurking in his eye, and wondered what he had in mind… but she answered, "With my life, Big Guy."

"As I trust you with mine, my Elisa. But now we had best return to the others; Adam is looking in our direction and doubtless wondering what is the matter."

To Be Continued…


	4. Meeting the Clan

**1.4: Meeting the Clan**

Whoever had built the clan's mansion way back when, had obviously intended to do some serious entertaining; the grand ballroom was _huge_. Elisa had seen softball fields that were smaller. It held an assembly of what must be nearly every gargoyle in the clan (excepting only the ones still in New Orleans on patrol duties), and several dozen human clan members as well.

If they had taken the time to shake hands or clasp forearms with every last one of them, Elisa figured they'd still be doing introductions by midnight. So Adam just named each clan member as he led the party past their ranks. "Not that we expect you to remember everyone's names from the first introduction," he said wryly just before introducing them to the clan's most elderly gargoyles, folks who appeared to be at least a full generation older than Hudson.

Hudson couldn't help commenting under his breath, "An' why does everyone need naming, anyway? I got along just fine without a name for over a century of living…"

One creaky old fellow who had just been introduced to them as Ignatius, overheard that and gave Hudson a keenly inquisitive look before saying bluntly, "Once all this _cérémonie_ is over, youngster, we goin' to do some talkin'."

Adam and half the Manhattan clan stifled chuckles while Hudson gaped at Ignatius and echoed, "_Youngster_?"

* * *

Elisa had deliberately cultivated a good memory for names and faces in her work as a detective, but after the fiftieth or sixtieth passing introduction, even she was hopelessly confused as to who was who. So she just kept a smile fixed on her face, nodded politely when nodded to, and let her mind wander a little. She had noticed that about a quarter of the gargoyles in the room had feathered wings and recognizable animal characteristics, much like the gargoyles of the London Clan, and wondered if some free-spirited young gargoyles from that clan had glided across the English Channel a while before this clan had emigrated to America. 

Over there was a gargoyle that resembled a black cat with bird's wings, and further back in the ranks was one that looked like a two-legged chestnut horse, and another one with a bull's head that reminded her of a smaller-scale version of New Olympus' Minotaur. There were even a couple gargoyles with feathered wings but very nearly human features, though their "hair" was made of feathers that generally matched the colors of their wings.

And evidently interbreeding with non-English gargoyles had mixed up the color genes for some of the English types, because she also saw a feathered man-type with light blue skin, a female cat-gargoyle with blazing orange-red fur, a yellow-green horse-type, another horse-type that was piebald red and white, and—oh Lord, don't let her start laughing; Elisa had just spotted a gargoyle that looked like a purple cow. And now that silly nursery rhyme about purple cows was resounding inside her permanently sleep-deprived skull…

So far, nearly every gargoyle that had been introduced to them had been standing next to a member of the opposite sex; mated pairs were introduced together. And from what Adam mentioned of the five gargoyles still out in town, four of those five were mated pairs as well. So when the party came to a cluster of females without any males around, Elisa knew instantly that here were some members of 'the competition'. (Though they had better **_not _**be any real competition; not if Goliath knew what was good for him!) Adam introduced them as Yvette, Marie and Isabel.

Yvette was a deep rose in color, with glider wings like Brooklyn and Angela had, and two stubby horns poking out of a long black mane that currently had magnolias entwined in it. She was also stacked like a brick shipyard, and Elisa thought for a moment that she looked for all the world like some hormone-crazed teenager's idea of a sexy demoness, out to tempt somebody out of his soul with pleasures of the flesh.

Marie was a much lighter shade of pink, with white bird wings, and instead of horns or a mane had downy white feathers covering her scalp. She strongly reminded Elisa of a classic representation of an angel, except for the feathered scalp, the _very_ low-cut blouse and high-cut shorts, and the naked lust gleaming in her eyes as she and Yvette together gave the entire band of males a once-over-lightly.

Isabel had bird wings as well, but a head resembling a calico cat with a long curly mane, and the jet-black feathers of her wings complimented the black and brown mottling of her calico fur. She wasn't ogling the males of the Manhattan Clan quite as openly as the other two, but there was no mistaking the interest in her eyes either.

As she saw them looking the males over, Elisa almost stepped in and grabbed Goliath's arm in a possessive manner, to give them an unmistakable message of '_Hands off this one_!' just like Angela was currently doing with Broadway's arm. But she restrained herself; Goliath had promised her that he would make it clear to them all that he and she were one, even before anyone came close enough to do sniff-tests for 'mated' scent-markers. The ball was in his court, and how well he handled it would be one of the first tests of their marriage.

Rebecca was hanging onto Brooklyn's arm and glaring at her rookery sisters just as Angela was, but Elisa could tell there was far more desperation and fear in her expression, whereas Angela was looking more annoyed than anything else. It was easy to understand why, because all three of the Trio were looking like they'd been hit with two-by-fours as they stared at the lovely females that were staring hungrily right back, and even Hudson seemed somewhat affected, standing taller and reflexively flaring his wings a bit.

Even Goliath twitched ever-so-slightly, and his tail was tensely coiled around his left leg as he led his clan in formally bowing to the ladies. Elisa eyed that tail, eyed the way Marie and Yvette were looking at him even more than the others, and reminded herself of something her mother had said once: "It's all right if they look, so long as they don't even _think_ about touching." He had sworn to be hers till death did them part, and trust was such an integral part of their relationship...

Adam frowned as he looked around, and finally said, "Where is Martha? I said I wanted everyone present tonight."

"Someone looking for me?" a voice wafted in from another doorway, from which some delicious odors were wafting out. "I'm in the kitchen, of course; did you think this early Thanksgiving feast was going to cook itself?" The voice grew nearer, and a light gray, somewhat plump female with her blue mane tucked into a hair net stepped out long enough to wave at them all and say brightly, "I'm Martha, pleased to meet you, and dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes!" before dashing back to the kitchen again.

After that they were introduced to the youngest clan members, the twelve hatchlings. At only thirteen years old, equivalent in development to seven-year-old human children, they came swarming out of the rookery and into the ballroom _en masse_ the moment they were called, and started dancing excitedly and shouting questions at the strangers. Their rookery keepers laughingly caught them by their tails one at a time, to get them to hold still long enough to be introduced.

The smallest one, a little blue fellow named Denis, seemed to instantly attach himself to Lexington's leg and had to be pried off. "It's all right," Lex hastily assured the rookery keeper, as he grinned at Denis and winked. "I used to assist in the rookery all the time, before I qualified to be a warrior, so I'm used to it. Hey, kid, has anyone taught you to play trenchers yet?"

"A new game?" Denis squealed, his eyes wide with delight.

"Well, I guess it's new to you folks anyway. Tell you what, you go play with your brothers and sisters tonight while I make up a board and pieces, and tomorrow night my brothers and I will show you how to play it. Okay?"

"Yayyy!"

To Be Continued…


	5. A Toast!

**1.5: "A Toast!"**

Just as the last party of human clan members (those who worked in New Orleans and had driven out to the estate for the big celebration) had hustled into the ballroom and been introduced, a human girl with a flour smudge on her nose came out of the kitchen grinning, loudly ringing a triangle and announcing, "Dinner is ready for serving; time to get the tables ready!"

While Adam had been introducing the last few people, those who had already been introduced had been quietly working on the other side of the ballroom, setting up long tables, benches and folding chairs. Now that introductions were over, everyone fell to work with a will and in short order, the ballroom was converted into a dining hall. A long 'bucket brigade' of workers passed out plates and silverware from cabinets set on one side of the room, setting dozens of tables in minutes flat; Goliath made appreciative murmurs about their excellent coordination and efficiency, before Adam gestured for the clan to follow him and take their seats.

Once they were all seated, the servers (over half of them hatchlings, who were admittedly adorable as they balanced their trays with extreme caution) began bringing the food out and pouring drinks for everyone. Once the last glass was filled and Martha had scurried in to take her seat, Adam stood up again and raised his glass high to say, "A toast, everyone, to our honored guests, the Manhattan Clan!"

They were all duly toasted, gargoyles and humans alike, as they sat at their places of honor. Though not a word was said about it, no one doubted that the seating arrangement had been deliberately planned for maximum exposure of the new males to the unmated females.

The humans from Manhattan were seated at the far end of the head table from Adam and his mate Elizabeth, while the gargoyles from Manhattan were in the middle. Goliath sat on the corner to Adam's right, while Brooklyn sat next to him; then came Hudson, Broadway, Lexington and Angela… except Angela had smoothly, swiftly and very pointedly exchanged seats with Lexington as they were sitting down, so she was seated next to Broadway. Lexington shrugged and took Angela's seat, next to Elisa at the far end.

On the other side of the table, instead of the clan's honored elders as might have been expected, the unmated ladies were seated. Rebecca sat directly across from Goliath, and Marie next to her and across from Brooklyn. Then came Yvette, Isabel and Martha, who sat across from Lexington. Stephen, the dark green gargoyle who had been introduced to them as the clan's second-in-command, was indeed sitting at the table, but down at the end next to Fox instead of next to Elizabeth.

Seated across from Fox and several seats away from her husband, Elisa silently fumed and told herself that Goliath was going to be in deep kimchee later on, for letting this go on for so long. Jealous fear and fury gripped her heart as she couldn't help wondering if Goliath, now faced with such obviously gorgeous and single young females, was having second thoughts about their marriage after all.

When the toast was finished, Goliath stood up and said, "On behalf of my clan, I thank you all. The news of your existence has given us great joy; when we were awakened from our millennium-long slumber to this present age, we had thought we were the last of our kind, and only recently did we learn otherwise. Knowing you exist has given us more hope that the gargoyle race will indeed survive and flourish, into the next millennium."

As he spoke, he casually moved down the table, from his seat of honor next to Adam to near where Elisa was sitting. Then he turned back to Adam and said with a smile, "And knowing that your clan leader, in particular, is alive and well gives me, personally, even greater joy…" He turned back to Elisa and drew her out of her seat with a loving expression as he finished, "Knowing half-human hybrids are possible gives us hope… that my mate and I may have a child together someday."

Knowing that was her cue, Elisa said with her most sickening-sweet smile (and mischief dancing in her eyes, to match the mischief lurking deep in Goliath's eyes), "Yes, darling, there's hope for us now!"

All over the dining hall, jaws nearly bounced off the tables. Brooklyn had both hands wrapped around his beak to keep from bursting out laughing, as he looked at the utterly appalled expressions on Yvette and Marie in particular. Marie even burst out with a wailing, "_Nooo_!"

Goliath eyed her sternly as he walked back up to the head of the table with Elisa on his arm. "Is there a problem, Marie?"

Marie froze and blushed an even brighter shade of pink. Everyone knew she didn't dare say a word, not while seated at the same table as her half-human clan leader. On her other side, Isabel gave a feral grin as she said aloud, "I think she was just protesting about my having accidentally stepped on her tail! How terribly clumsy of me; so sorry, Marie..."

Standing next to Brooklyn's seat, Goliath said mildly, "Brooklyn, would you mind…?"

"Hey, no problem!" Brooklyn said with a grin as he hastily scrambled up from his seat and grabbed his plate and glass. He trotted down the table to sit in Elisa's old spot, and her plate and glass were passed up to where he had been sitting, as Goliath decorously seated her next to himself.

Adam gave Goliath a dirty look and muttered quietly, "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

Goliath gave him an innocent look and whispered back, "You didn't ask."

Seated next to Adam, the lovely lavender gargoyle with shining white tresses that had been introduced to them as Elizabeth, Adam's mate, gave both Elisa and Goliath a smile and a wink. Elisa had the feeling that, as much as Elizabeth surely felt sorry for the remaining females (whose choices had just been reduced by one), she admired Goliath's timing and his flair for the dramatic. After Marie's faux pas and its obvious-to-all smoothing over, no one would dare try to suggest now that he might be better off with a gargoyle for a mate. Elisa smiled back at Elizabeth, before turning to Goliath and asking her Big Guy to please pass the gravy and pepper.

To Be Continued…


	6. Let the Games Begin

**1.6: Let the Games Begin**

Now that Goliath was out of the running, so to speak, the unmated females decided to concentrate on the younger males of his clan… and not to waste any time at it, either; it began while they were still all seated together.

Brooklyn had placed himself out of physical reach of the ladies by taking Elisa's former seat, but Broadway was seated directly across from Isabel, and cattycorner from Yvette and Martha. Angela had pointedly swapped seats with Lexington son after they all sat down, so she was seated next to Broadway on his right side and directly across from Martha. For the first time in his entire life, Broadway was surrounded on nearly all sides by females… and so he had no clue of what to do when, after about five minutes of pleasant but idle conversation, he felt someone's tail entwine around his leg. He froze for a moment, eyes wide, and the tail slowly slithered up his leg a little further. He swallowed hard, then whispered hopefully to Angela, "Honey, is that you?"

Angela looked at him in surprise, then figured out what must be going on and glared across the table. Isabel was talking with her sister Martha about something she'd seen while on patrol two nights ago, Rebecca was trying to talk across the table to Brooklyn, and Yvette and Marie were apparently occupied with their dinners; none of them were meeting her eyes with guilty, mischievous or defiant expressions. But she could play tail games too… Moments later there was a sound like a whip-crack, and Yvette couldn't help giving a little yelp and jump in her seat. That drew all the attention to her, and just as with Marie a little earlier, she could only blush and say nothing.

Elizabeth quietly sighed before saying just loudly enough for the next table over to hear, "Yvette, would you be a dear and bring me a refill?" as she held up her empty wineglass. When Yvette got up to take her glass, her expression just a touch sullen at the transparent excuse to get her out of the room for a few minutes, Elizabeth beckoned her closer and whispered just loud enough for those closest to hear, "Slow down, dear! We're not breeding tomorrow, for pity's sake!" Yvette blushed even harder as she slunk out of the room.

When she came back a few minutes later, she and Angela glared daggers at each other while she sat back down. Broadway decided he'd better do something before a fight broke out. He cleared his throat and said in a low voice, "Ladies? A moment of your time, please?" when all their eyes were focused on him, he continued with a blush, "Look, it's not that I don't think you're all very attractive, but just consider me 'off the market', same as Goliath, okay? My heart's already taken," as he held Angela's hand and smiled into her eyes. Angela smiled back as she caressed his hand. Then Broadway continued, "But, hey, that still leaves three of us guys available," as he pointed in turn to Lexington, Hudson and Brooklyn.

"Oh, yes!" Angela said enthusiastically, taking the conversational ball and running with it. "Lexington, here, is an utter marvel with technology, while still an excellent warrior! And Hudson, why, he's one of our canniest warriors, the absolute _best_ at swordplay, and our best tracker as well! And Brooklyn's so good at just about everything that Goliath chose him for second-in-command!"

The three males just named and praised by Angela all traded wry looks between themselves even as they unconsciously sat up straighter, knowing full well why she was lavishing such compliments on them; anything to get the other females' minds off of _her_ choice. Hudson snorted under his breath, already sure that he'd be automatically discounted as a potential mate; he knew full well that he was over twice the age of all the ladies present at the table, not even counting the thousand years of enchanted sleep. But it would be somewhat amusing to watch what happened with the other lads, he thought to himself with another wry smile, so let the games begin…

To Be Continued…


	7. Hot Pursuit

**1.7: Hot Pursuit**

Ten minutes after Angela had sung his praises to the other females, Brooklyn announced he was full and excused himself. In truth, he would have preferred to stay and chat, but once he'd been pointed out as the clan's second-in-command, the combined gazes of the New Orleans clan females made him more than a little nervous. But less than ten seconds after he stood up, Rebecca had also excused herself and gotten up to follow him… and less than a minute later, Marie, Yvette and Isabel had also gotten up and followed him out of the room.

Only Martha remained at the table, though staring wistfully and sadly in the direction that the others had taken. Broadway felt a bit sorry for her; she obviously wanted to go after Brooklyn too, but considered the competition too fierce. He whispered, "Martha, you cook, right?" When she turned back to him with a somewhat startled look and nodded, he whispered, "Brooklyn's favorite dish is beef ragout."

"Go on after him, if you really want to!" Angela whispered encouragingly. So Martha also excused herself, and left in the direction the others had taken.

Lexington looked in the direction of the departing females with dismay written all over his face. It was obvious what he was thinking: Were they all so focused on Brooklyn that they didn't even notice him?

Hudson noticed Lexington's dismay and his probable growing jealousy, and muttered to him, "I'd be willing to bet that at least one of those females is status-hungry; not interested in Brooklyn for himself, but for his clan position. Having that sort of mate can lead to misery later on… And as for the others, once they come to their senses and stop chasing the same prey everyone else is chasing, I've no doubt one of them will look in your direction."

Angela put in, "Why not go after them now, and just ask the one you like best to go on a glide with you? What could it hurt?"

Lexington looked at her askance and echoed disbelievingly, "What could it hurt?" But after another minute or so he got up and excused himself to go follow the others.

* * *

Brooklyn couldn't believe what he was doing. Just yesterday, he'd been complaining to Lex about how he was tired of being single; that there were no females around who were interested in him for a mate. Tonight, there were females aplenty… and here he was, walking away from them! What the hell was wrong with him? 

"Oh, Brooklyn…"

_Eeep_! Brooklyn glanced back, to see Rebecca right behind him. She'd followed him right out of the dining hall! And oh Dragon, there were three more females right behind her! And all of them looking at him like _he_ was their dinner, instead of the feast back in the hall.

Brooklyn ducked through the first door on his left, and stepped into… a dead end. The room was a living room or den, with some overstuffed chairs and small tables, a piano, and a fireplace off to one side, but no other door to exit. But there wasn't a fire going in the fireplace; could he escape up the chimney?

Why was he trying to run away again? Brooklyn got ahold of himself, told his male ego it was time to step up to the plate, and turned to face the incoming females with a smile that was only slightly forced. "Ladies, would you care to join me?"

And in short order he was seated in one of the easy chairs, with lovely females just about draping themselves all over him. Yvette was behind the chair, cooing into his ear about how studly he was, running her fingers through his mane, and… _my_, that was an interesting cushion she was encouraging him to rest against! And Marie was leaning over in front of him, bracing herself on the easy chair's arms and essentially trapping him there, cooing similar sentiments while giving him a heart-stopping view of her cleavage. Isabel stood off to one side, looking at what her rookery sisters were doing, and shook her head before speaking up, asking Brooklyn if he'd like her to bring him something to eat or drink, since he left the feast early.

"Uhhh… yeah, some water would be nice," Brooklyn said with a gulp, as Marie lightly ran a talon along his thigh. Ice-cold water, please; something to spill on his loincloth before a tent formed there…

Rebecca had been tripped up by Marie's tail as Brooklyn had been taking his seat, and by the time she'd recovered, Yvette and Marie had claimed their positions. Since then she'd been trying to edge closer to him, a desperate look on her face, but now she sprang up and said hastily, "I'll get it for you!" She hurried out, just as Martha came in.

Between the sight down Marie's tunic, the feel of what he was resting his head against, and the sweet nothings being cooed in his ears by both Yvette and Marie, Brooklyn's attention was increasingly occupied. But he vaguely registered other voices; Martha asking if there was anything Brooklyn wanted to eat or drink, and Isabel quietly informing Martha that Rebecca had already left to get him some water. Then a few seconds Isabel spoke up a little louder: "All right, who in here intends to piss off the clan leaders, by having pre-mated sex right on the spot?"

Yvette backed off immediately, while Marie stood up and gave Isabel a nasty glare. Isabel only cocked her head at her rookery sister and said, "Hey, did you want him to think you're really that easy? Of course, if you really _are_ that easy …"

Isabel said with a venomous tone to her voice, "_You're_ the one who spends all her time on Bourbon Street with the hookers!"

Isabel's feline ears went back as she hissed, "I go there to _patrol_ and protect the innocent, while _you_ spend most of your time grooming your feathers!"

"Uh, hey, ladies, let's not start fighting!" Brooklyn said desperately.

"He's right; we shouldn't be fighting," Martha said. "Er…Brooklyn, would you like to--"

"Yes, _cher_ Brooklyn, what would _you_ like to do?" Yvette interjected, as she came around to the front of his chair. "Just name it…"

Brooklyn looked around desperately for an idea, and saw the piano. "Um, some music? Do any of you know how--"

"I do!" "I do!" Yvette and Marie both sprang for the piano, but Yvette was closer and got there first. There was almost a scuffle between the two sisters, before Yvette said brightly, "Why don't we take turns?" as she slid onto the bench.

Marie fumed, but stepped back and let Yvette play. And as the first tinkling notes emerged from the piano, she turned to Martha and said sweetly, "Martha, _cherie_… that was such a wonderful feast you helped make for us all. But aren't you still needed in the kitchen? I'll bet there's still plenty of work left to do for tomorrow's real Thanksgiving dinner. You wouldn't want to just serve our guests leftovers from tonight, would you?" Martha started to stammer a reply, looking worriedly at Brooklyn, but Marie steered her towards the door and pushed her out to the hall, talking all the way about how it was Martha's duty to create another delectable feast for everyone.

* * *

Lexington found where everyone had gone to, when he saw Rebecca emerging from a door into the hall at almost a dead run. He flattened himself against the wall to let her run past, on her way to the dining hall, and wondered why she was in such a hurry… obviously in so much of a hurry that she wouldn't appreciate it if he stopped her and asked her to go on a glide with him. Not that it would do much good with her anyway, he admitted to himself. She'd spent hours with both him and Brooklyn back in New York, and she'd had eyes only for Brooklyn from the start. 

Once Rebecca had run past, and after looking regretfully after in her departing direction for a moment, Lex went on to the room she'd emerged from. He got there just as Martha came out, with her rookery sister Marie right behind her, saying something about dinner tomorrow. Martha glanced at Lex, then glanced back into the room, before turning and hurrying down the hall. (Was that a choked sob he heard as she left? Nahhh…) But since Marie was still in the doorway, Lex gathered his courage and said just as she was turning away, "Hi! Since introductions were made in such a hurry earlier, I'm Lexington, but you can call me Lex if you want."

Marie turned back to face him, but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. "Hi, I'm Marie."

"Sooo, Marie… would you, uh, like to go for a glide with me? Show me your protectorate?"

Marie gave him a look of mingled disgust and pity, before hissing, "You should try your luck with Martha. She knows what to do with _leftovers_."

Lex stared open-mouthed at her as she turned and went back inside the room. Then he turned and stomped away, but not to go find Martha; as angry and hurt as he was now, he wanted something to _destroy_.

To Be Continued…

Author's note: "cher" and "cherie" are French for "dear"; "cher" is used when addressing males and "cherie" for females.


	8. Being Excused

**1.8: Being Excused**

Back in the dining hall, now that her side of the table was mostly empty, Fox blithely moved her plate up several seats and encouraged Stephen to do the same. Once she was seated across from Elisa, she told them, "I talked to David earlier, and he already held that TV interview he told you about last night. Sure enough, as soon as they were in the castle a WVRN cameraman snuck out to get pictures of the clan sleeping, but found the roof empty. And when the interviewer, Travis Marshall, flat-out asked David what was up with the clan, David told him and all the world that you people had left the castle because you liked your privacy as much as the next guy, and you were tired of being harassed by Quarrymen in helicopters."

"Which we definitely were," Goliath rumbled. "And did he give any 'hints' as to where our supposed new home is located?"

"He mentioned your preferring 'sea air', so hopefully the Quarrymen will start scouting the docks instead of buzzing the castle. Anyway, the interview is supposed to be on the news tonight, but I'm sure we wouldn't be able to get the signal for a New York station down here," Fox added airily.

For which Elisa was silently very glad. She was sure that the interviewer had mentioned, if not outright hounded Xanatos, on the subject of the battle that had happened between the Quarrymen and supposed gargoyles last Monday night. The clan still didn't know about that battle, since it had occurred while Broadway was in surgery, and the clan's human allies had done their best to not mention it afterwards. Elisa knew that they'd have to find out about it sooner or later… but preferably later; not at a formal dinner!

A few seats down, Broadway was still eating with gusto, while Angela was eyeing him with concern. She whispered, "Dear heart, didn't the doctor say that you need to lose weight?"

Broadway guiltily set down his fork, but protested, "But it's all so good! And… and wouldn't it be an insult to the cooks if we didn't at least try everything?"

"You _have_ tried everything. I'm sure they won't be insulted if you don't go for second helpings… Why don't we go for a gli—a walk together?"

Broadway slumped in his seat and said with a sigh, "Yeah. A walk. You were about to say 'a glide together'," as he glanced back at his crippled wing.

"Well, a walk is still a good idea! Come on," as she tugged at him while rising out of her own seat. "Father, Adam, please excuse us…"

"Of course," Goliath said with an indulgent smile, while Adam nodded his consent.

As the pair stood up, Hudson said to them quietly, "Remember those wing exercises the doctor recommended."

"We'll do those as soon as dinner has settled," Angela promised the elder as she led Broadway away.

Stephen was next to excuse himself. He picked up his plate and went to go join his mate, a rookery keeper who was fully occupied at the hatchlings' table, a rambunctious group three tables away. He said with a grin that he hoped his authoritative presence there would get the hatchlings to quiet down a little, but he doubted it.

Then Fox took one last bite of her pie and excused herself, after asking if the mansion had a workout room that she could use in a few hours, once her own dinner had settled; she had far more than the usual number of calories to work off! And Hudson also stood up to leave, saying he was going to check on the courting youngsters.

"Do you really think they need a chaperone?" Elisa asked Hudson dubiously.

"Emotions tend to run high, this close to a breeding season," Hudson informed her with a wry smile. "Back in the old days, we elders sometimes had to intervene to prevent the young males from coming to blows." He paused then, and added, "Mind you, I've never seen quite this sort of situation, with so many _females_ competing for a few males…"

"Trust me, they can be far worse than fighting males in their own fashion," Elizabeth informed him dryly. "Before most of the males in this rookery clutch chose their mates, the fighting became absolutely vicious for a while. They didn't come to blows often, but their verbal battles and maneuverings turned into guerilla warfare. And the two times that it came to blows… females may not draw blood as often, but when we do, we claw in _deep_."

Adam heartily agreed, and added, "Honored elder, I would greatly appreciate your discreetly monitoring them, and providing a voice of reason and wisdom from time to time." Hudson humbly accepted the accolade and said he would do his best, and departed the table.

Bronx had been lying down on a cushion at the far end of the table, having been given his share and more of turkey and other meats by the clan's wide-eyed hatchlings. When Hudson left the table he grunted and slowly got to his feet, to follow Hudson out of the room. But the hatchlings at their table began calling to him excitedly, "Here, doggie!" ("It's not a doggie, it's a watchbeast!") "Here, watchbeast!" "Got some ham for you!" "I got a whole turkey leg for you!" "C'mere, boy!" Their rookery keepers chided them, but Bronx looked in their direction, then turned and sauntered over there, to enjoy their attentions (and offered food) to the fullest.

That left only the clan leaders and their mates at the head table, and now that they were more-or-less alone with each other, what little formality that gargoyles bothered with went by the wayside. Adam turned to Elisa and asked with interest, "So, how did you two meet? The story Goliath told us while we were in your castle ended with the clan's awakening in modern-day New York."

"You left out the best part!" Elisa lovingly chided her husband, before turning to Adam and saying, "Short story, I fell off a building and he caught me. I'll tell you the long story, too… if you'll reciprocate by telling us _your_ story. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but… how did you _happen_? What little I know of biology…"

"Biology dictates that gargoyles and humans are not naturally interfertile," Adam said with a wry look. "That's quite true, I assure you. But in my case, or rather, my parents' case… when I hatched so early and my human characteristics became obvious, I was termed 'the Third Miracle', since there have been two prior miracles that have affected the entire clan. But in truth," as he lowered his voice, "magic was involved, not divine intervention. But please keep that to yourselves; officially, every gargoyle member of this clan is a devout Catholic who would never dream of using magic."

The light dawned on her, and Elisa exclaimed, "That's why the names! I wondered why the names of your people weren't consistently French, and included such odd and archaic names here and there. It seemed like they were from a list I'd read once, and they are; they're the names of Catholic saints!"

"Saints and martyrs," Adam corrected her. "The tradition was started hundreds of years ago, back when the clan lived in Notre Dame; the old clan decided that naming themselves after the saints and martyrs was another way to keep on good terms with the local priests. As I understand it, the first names chosen were all of French or ancient Gallic saints and martyrs, but after some English gargoyles crossed the channel to Paris and joined the clan back in the 15th century, the list expanded considerably to include all known saints. And the tradition continues to this day, even now that we no longer live in a cathedral."

"So was there a Saint Adam, too?"

"As a matter of fact, there was; he was a Benedictine abbot back in medieval Italy. But as I'm sure you've already guessed, I was really named after Adam of the Garden of Eden; everyone agreed that it was most appropriate for being the first of my kind. So, magic was involved… and that is the short story." He glanced around them, at the dining hall still full of people at the other tables, and though no one else was apparently looking in their direction he continued quietly, "The long one had best wait until we have more privacy…"

To Be Continued…


	9. Players

**1.9: Players**

Back in the den, Rebecca had returned with the glass of water for Brooklyn, and now she hovered hopefully right next to his elbow. At the piano, Yvette had just finished playing a simple piece from memory, and Marie insisted that it was her turn now. As Yvette slid off the seat, Marie turned to Isabel and said sweetly, "Would you care to accompany me, dear sister? And let Brooklyn hear your singing voice…"

Isabel's feline ears went back again, and she said flatly, "I. Don't. Sing. In. Public. As you are well aware, sister dear."

Rebecca piped up eagerly, "I'll sing, Marie! What are you going to play?"

The look Marie gave Rebecca was not a happy one, but she said aloud as she sat on the piano bench, "In honor of our guest's medieval background, I'll be playing 'Greensleeves'."

Marie began to play, and Brooklyn could tell from the first few bars that while Yvette had been fairly decent on the piano earlier, Marie was far better. She added flourishes to the introduction that Brooklyn had never heard before, but which sounded both appropriate and lovely.

Then Rebecca began to sing, and just as Adam had said back in Manhattan, she had a lovely singing voice. "_Alas, my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously. For I have loved you well and long, delighting in your company_." On the chorus, her voice soared like a gargoyle gliding to greet the summer moon, "_Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but my lady Greensleeves_."

But with the next verse, Marie slowed the tempo a trifle, And Rebecca's voice stumbled as she sung the first few words, then realized the change and had to pause until the next line. Then in the chorus, Marie suddenly sped up again, and Rebecca verbally stumbled again as she tried to catch up…

It made what should have been a pleasure to listen to, decidedly unpleasant instead. And Brooklyn's eyes narrowed as he realized that was exactly what Marie had intended. She'd already sent Martha out of the room, had tried to get Isabel to do something her rookery sister couldn't do well, and now she was doing her best to make Rebecca look bad in front of him; trying to eliminate the competition, any way she could.

If she were a member of his clan, he would have pulled her aside and told her in no uncertain terms that behavior like that was dishonorable and intolerable. A gargoyle in search of a mate was free to do what he could to make himself--or herself—look good, but not to make other suitors look bad in the process!

But he admitted to himself with painful honesty, he and his brothers had pulled similar tactics when Angela had first arrived in Manhattan and they'd all been competing for her affections. And Angela had told them all off, loud and clear… but by that time, she had already been accepted as a full clan member, with every right to call them out on their behavior.

And Marie wasn't a member of his clan at all, was she? This clan might have different standards of what was acceptable behavior and what was not when it came to courting. (After all, they counted a lot of humans as members of their clan, and humans had that saying "All's fair in love and war.") And he had only arrived in town last night; now was _not_ the time to commit a potentially serious faux pas that could put his entire clan in a bad light, since they were guests in another clan's territory.

While Brooklyn had been musing on what, if anything, he could do, Rebecca had struggled valiantly for a full three verses before finally going silent and just standing there miserably, nearly in tears, while Marie brought the song to an end with more flourishes. Rebecca said softly as she looked at her toe-talons, "I'm sorry…"

And Brooklyn had an idea. "Don't feel bad, Rebecca; some people just can't find each other's rhythms! Why don't you try singing while Yvette plays? After a few bars, you'll probably find the same rhythm and--"

After finishing the piece, Marie had turned in her sat to gaze smugly at everyone else, but now she stared at Brooklyn with incredulous dismay before interrupting him with a hasty, "I can do it! I'm just--out of practice at playing while accompanied! Let's try again, Rebecca; I'm sure we'll do better this time…"

And they did. Brooklyn leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes to enjoy the music… as well as the whispered compliment that came to him from someone else nearby. He thought it might have been Yvette who said softly and with warm approval, "_Very_ well done."

To Be Continued…


	10. For Posterity

**1.10: For Posterity**

Some time later and elsewhere in the mansion, Angela finished wheedling Broadway to do just one more repetition, to stretch that wing to the limit just one more time, just one more… And when he finished, his bare scalp covered with a light sheen of sweat, she kissed his ear and said she was proud of him.

A light cough interrupted them, and they turned to see one of the older members of the New Orleans Clan standing in the doorway; an aged male with yellow-green skin and a spiky fin running across his bare scalp. "Please pardon the intrusion… If you don't recall the introduction earlier, I am Benedict, this clan's chronicler. Word has been spreading through the clan since your arrival, and I wanted to confirm its truth or falsehood from your own lips." He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and continued, "Is it true that your clan was under a-a _magic spell_ for a full thousand years… and you were actually hatched and raised in _medieval Scotland_?"

"Well, Broadway and the others were," Angela admitted. "I was from the last clutch of eggs the clan laid before the massacre, so I was hatched and raised on Avalon. But our adoptive parents told us stories about what it was like back then…"

Benedict's eyes went wide, and he gave them both such an eager stare that Angela was momentarily reminded of a young boy looking at a towering mound of sweets. "Fascinating," he breathed. "The stories you could tell… Would you consider telling them to me?"

Angela and Broadway both looked at him, then looked at each other and shrugged, while Benedict explained: he wanted them to spend some time with him, going over every last detail of what life had been like while they'd been growing up, both for themselves and for the humans around them. He would record their stories in a new set of chronicles, to be kept in the clan's library, so that even after they themselves were dust, their stories and the people they once knew would not be forgotten.

"Gosh, I'm honored," Broadway said, his eyes round. "But really, you should be talking to Hudson; he's been alive a lot longer and remembers a lot more about the old times than I do."

"Oh, I intend to talk to each one of you, to collect all the stories you're willing to share before you leave," Benedict assured him. "But since your brothers are preoccupied with courting, and your elder Hudson has decided to monitor them for a time to ensure no one loses control, I had hoped to start with you both; the one couple who has already decided their own hearts and made their choices. And now, when I find out that you, Angela, have tales to tell of an entirely different land…!"

Just then, they were interrupted again, by an older female gargoyle with gray skin, a silvery mane tucked into a bun, a matronly figure and 'two-fingered' wings; one who had been introduced to them as Ursula, one of the rookery keepers. "Hello? Oh, there you are… oh, my apologies; am I interrupting something?"

Benedict explained his proposed project and that the gargoyles had just agreed to tell him what they remembered, and Ursula gave a distressed sort of smile. "That's a wonderful idea, dears… but it puts the rest of us in rather a bind. Broadway, I'm told that you're a very accomplished cook and chef?"

"Well, I like to think so," Broadway said modestly. "Do you need some help in the kitchen?"

"I'm afraid so, dears. With a clan this size, we're cooking and baking and preparing meals nearly around the clock, and our mainstay during the wee hours of the night has been Martha, for at least the last decade. But if she's spending half of every night in the kitchen, she'll have far less opportunity to try courting your brothers! We would like to relieve her of her duties for the duration of your stay here, or until your brothers make their choices. But we need someone to replace her who actually knows how to cook, and isn't apt to either burn everything or serve it half-raw. Now, if you'd prefer to keep your vacation time your own, it's perfectly understandable; we'll just have some of our human clan members change shifts to work 'round the clock, although that tends to be hard on them…"

"Oh, it's not a problem; I'd be glad to help out!" Broadway told her. "I've been meaning to learn more recipes from your local cuisine anyway; this is the perfect opportunity!"

"Oh, bless you, dears! And I do apologize, Benedict, if this upsets your own plans."

"Well, it does a little, but not too terribly," Benedict said while eyeing Angela. "Angela, would you consider telling me your own stories, without your future mate at your side? I realize it's an imposition, but it would only be for a night or two, and since your stories are apt to be unique…"

"Since they are unique, Broadway wouldn't be able to add much to them," Angela agreed. "Well, I don't see why not… so long as my man behaves himself in the kitchen," she said as she gave him a quick hug. She smiled as she said it and gave him the quick friendly squeeze as if she were joking, but she hoped he realized she was quite serious about 'behaving himself' and not overeating. The doctor wasn't the only one who wanted him to lose a lot of weight.

And in short order Ursula was showing Broadway the way to the kitchen, while Benedict led Angela to the library, where he intended to set up a tape recorder. While taking notes, he would record her stories and responses to his questions, so not a single nuance would be missed when he transcribed them to the chronicles later.

Angela found herself becoming both excited and nervous, about having her words recorded for all time. There was so much about her hatching clan that she wanted to share for posterity… but some things that she would really rather leave out…

To Be Continued…


	11. Not Too Old For

**1.11: Not Too Old To…**

Hours later, Hudson sat comfortably in a chair on one side of the den, pretending to be half-asleep but keeping his half-closed eye on the courting youngsters.

Lexington had been gone most of the night, but he'd returned a short while ago, and had managed to draw Isabel away from the others. The two of them were now talking in a corner of the room; Hudson wasoutside the range of hearing clearly what they were saying, but thought it had something to do with metalworking, Isabel's hobby. Over by the piano, Brooklyn was still surrounded by a bevy of females; Rebecca, Marie and Yvette were all showering him with attention (when they weren't bickering with each other.) And it seemed to be almost more than the poor lad could handle, too.

About an hour ago, Hudson had been joined by Ursula, one of the New Orleans clan's rookery keepers; she made pleasant company as he watched to make sure the youngsters more-or-less behaved themselves. They chatted idly of this and that; mostly of antics they'd seen other courting folks pull in the past. After another stretch of comfortable silence, he whispered, "So, who do ye think will be best suited with whom?"

"Too early to tell, really; at this point, it's best to let them try to sort this out amongst themselves," Ursula whispered back. Then after a brief pause, she said, "Actually, I'm already quite sure about one pairing."

Hudson looked her way in mild surprise. "Oh? Which two?"

And then he felt something caressing the tip of his tail. He looked down between their chairs, to see Ursula's tail entwining about his own...

He took a deep breath, filling his nose with scent, then exclaimed with his good eye wide, "Ye're unmated!"

"Widowed, these past twenty years," Ursula gently corrected him. "And while I've laid my two eggs, I believe that I might be one of the lucky ones who gets to lay three in a lifetime. So how about you; think you're up for another breeding season?"

Hudson felt the heat in his face, and realized he was blushing like a hatchling. "Well…"

END

Author's note: "cher" and "cherie" are French for "dear"; "cher" is used when addressing males and "cherie" for females.


End file.
